


Watch Me

by Mythril (fantacination)



Series: #SheithWeek2k16 [4]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, Older!Shiro, Reality TV AU, Sheith Week 2016, Sheith Week 2016: Flashback/Reality, allura is boss, dance au, dancing with the stars au, introverted Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 15:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8377198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fantacination/pseuds/Mythril
Summary: Day 4: Flashback/ Reality (TV Show)Dancing with the Stars AU. Shiro is an aged celebrity athlete, suave, fit, and gay. Keith’s his introverted dance instructor, talented, gay and in possession of a cardboard box of old sports magazines under his bed.





	

The man stood six foot two to Keith’s five ten and he was dressed down in casual exercise clothes, expression pleasant. “Hi, I’m--”

“Takashi Shirogane,” Keith completed.

Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane, three-time tennis world champion and part-time action star. It had been some time since he’d made headlines, but he’d aged so terribly well, it was almost sickening. Other male celebrities went bald in their thirties. Shiro not only had a full head of hair, it was artfully styled with a distinguishing white streak. You could tell he’d been keeping himself in shape. His shoulders were broad as ever and he filled out the black muscle shirt he wore as well as he did when he was twenty.

He also just so happened to be one of the few openly gay celebrities in the world, which meant that when he’d accepted the show’s invitation, he’d requested a male partner. If he won, he was donating the winnings to a charity that supported suicidal gay teens.

And Keith, card-carrying queer and dance specialist, had been the perfect match. Allura certainly seemed to think so. Nevermind Keith’s allergy to rubbing elbows with celebrity.

“I can see we’re off to a great start,” Shiro noted. “What’s your name, then?”

“Keith.” And because he actually _had_ been brought up in a house and not a barn, he added, “Keith Kogane. Sorry, just been a bad morning.” It was mostly Allura’s fault for dragging him into this last minute when their previous instructor had an unfortunate accident. Keith owed her enough favors that he couldn’t really say no, but a reality tv show that was basically a rip off of Dancing with the Stars? He’d have turned it down, Takashi Shirogane in tight yoga pants or no.

Keith hated cameras and he hated getting to know people. He preferred being anonymous, no matter how much Allura chided that he was wasting his face and talent. And while he could admit to being just a little star-struck, even past his prime, he knew Takashi Shirogane was still a fantasy more than a reality he could do more than talk to.

He couldn’t exactly say no, either. No matter how awkward it might be to shake hands with a face that had been a prominent feature of his teen years. Faces like that were supposed to be _safe._ Someone you knew you’d never meet.

But he was also actually a real person doing good things for a good cause and if he could help that, then he had to. Besides, he’d dated lots of guys and he hadn’t really had any inappropriate thoughts about this particular famous face in years. He could do this.

He took a breath and let it out, summoning the neutral almost-professional voice he’d had to cultivate for times like these. “Okay, so, you’re obviously fit, do you dance?”

Shiro shook his head. “I was never much of a club person.”

“Let’s do some warm-ups, then, and try you out.”

“I usually take people to dinner before they try me out,” Shiro said mildly, starting to stretch.

It was a joke, Keith reminded himself. People did that. He walked over and leaned on his shoulders so he stretched it just that bit more. “Tell you what, if you win, I’ll let you buy me dinner,” he said generously.

Takashi Shirogane was just as dreamy in person as he was on the pages of Keith’s old, hidden sports magazines. But work was work. No matter how unfairly attractive or ridiculously ripped they might be. And Keith didn’t date work. But he could appreciate their back muscles.

“That’s some incentive.” Shiro said with good humor. His eyes crinkled up. Keith hadn’t realized he found crow’s feet attractive. Or laugh lines.

He let Shiro go, putting some distance between them to walk to the stereo on the floor of the studio. He scrolled through the track list and picked a song. Ther percussive beat of drums started to fill the room.

“Don’t think about steps or anything, for now, just listen to the music. What does it make you feel like doing? Tap your feet, anything?”

Shiro’s brow creased. “It’s a good beat. I don’t know, I want to move, but in my head that means running, not dancing.”

Keith hummed. “It’s a start. Maybe you just need a better idea of what your body can do.”

Keith was wearing a red crop top and black yoga pants- both hastily stuffed into his bag when Allura had given him the call.

“Watch me.”

He listened to the beat and started to bounce to it, snapping his fingers as the rhythm built up. Then the music came in properly and he moved. He loved it best when it was just him and the music, dancing at its purest. He wasn’t dancing; he _was_ the music, driven by passion into form. His hips swung as he raised his arms over his head, his feet light as he stepped into Shiro’s space, weaving around him.

“Getting the idea?” Keith darted a glance up at him, sidelong.

Shiro’s eyes were dark in a way that caught him off-guard. Like he’d been pinned. Then it was gone, quicksilver.

“Something like that.”  Slowly, he started to move, too, mirroring Keith’s movements, a little stiffly, but that was something they could work on.

“That’s good, you might not embarrass yourself when the show airs,” Keith said approvingly. He brought his arms up around Shiro’s shoulders, meaning to see how well he did with a partner.

Shiro’s hands paused, then settled on Keith’s shoulders. Keith shook his head and gathered the man’s large hands, sliding one down to his waist, a more natural spot.

He’d meant to establish boundaries- and encourage him to get more comfortable.

But he hadn’t been prepared for the sheer experience of being so close to him. Shiro’s hands pulled him close, his height and bulk immediate in a way that really shouldn’t turn him on. He smelled like soap and leather. He wondered, briefly, if he still wore the one leather jacket that had been on the centerfold of GQ.

Every brush of contact made him feel hyperaware.

“Can I try something?” Shiro asked, voice low.

Keith looked up. “It’s free style, do what you want--” His breath left him when Shiro’s large hands gripped his waist and lifted him up.

“What are you doing?!” Keith gasped.

Shiro paused, holding him aloft. “I’ve seen a few dancers do this.”  

“This really isn’t the kind of dance for a lift,” Keith said, eying Shiro’s arms and wondering if he was going to put him down any time soon. Keith might be shorter, but he wasn’t exactly delicate. Shiro didn’t even look like he was straining.

“Put me down,” He reminded, after a moment, trying not to let the shock of easy strength and the contact manifest into the shiver it wanted to be.

Shiro’s hand curved down to ease him back onto the floor, ghosting over his rear. “Can we do one that does?” He asked, his voice an inch from Keith’s throat as he straightened.  

It took Keith a moment to remember their initial conversation. “A lift? You want one?” What on earth was he agreeing to, he wondered.

“I do.”

“It’s not really the kind of thing for beginners…”

“But you’ll teach me?”

“It’s your number,” Keith said dumbly.

“And I couldn’t do it without you,” Shiro said simply, smiling warmly.

People didn’t smile like that.

They didn’t smile like that at _Keith_.

Keith was going to kill Allura.

If this job didn’t kill him first.

He definitely owed her two more favors now.


End file.
